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I wrote the following poem my sophomore year at Bridgewater State College (now University), when I was 19. I was taking a course at Boyden Hall on Tuesday nights called “Writing About Literature,” taught by a woman who was a reporter for the Taunton Daily Gazette. She was tough but fair and, like a journalist,…
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By Sarah E. Murphy I wrote the following poem in December 1991, for my mom’s birthday, when I was a sophomore at Bridgewater State College. At 19, I was finally able to grasp why she didn’t always seem merry in the weeks leading up to the holidays during my childhood, when she was busy making…
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I don’t allow myself the luxury of grieving. Instead I hide it like a secret pendant I wear on rare occasions. If I let myself start I’d probably never stop so I find I’ve returned to my former self the cynic who chides couples holding hands and locking lips needing to turn away. You wandered…
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